


The Scandalous Life of Seekers

by orphan_account



Category: Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: It's like truth or dare but really horny, Multi, Sticky Sexual Interfacing, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-08
Updated: 2018-12-08
Packaged: 2019-09-13 22:15:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,429
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16900821
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Three drunk Seekers, a game of Which Autobot Would You Bang, and the obvious, not-so-innocent outcome of it.





	The Scandalous Life of Seekers

**Author's Note:**

> For Froo.

If Skywarp were asked who started it, he would boldly proclaim that their current predicament was entirely the fault of their trineleader. 

Naturally, Skywarp would say with some overzealous gesticulation due to the engex polluting his fuel lines, only Starscream would propose something as insidious as a game that involved spilling secrets, all for the purpose of obtaining blackmail material that would serve his duplicitous nature well.

Then Thundercracker would watch, unfazed, as Starscream would retaliate with talons poised and ready and wings bristling because obviously only Skywarp could be the guilty party, and it was slander to even insinuate that someone of Starscream’s stature would sink to such a juvenile level.

But regardless of who had been the catalyst, they found themselves sitting in a circle on the floor, their lines humming with charge, their processors clouded and inhibitions lowered, with an empty bottle of engex wine resting on its side between them. 

Skywarp, doing himself no favors in proving his innocence, was deviously rubbing his hands together as his gaze flickered between the bottle and his trinemates. He gripped the bottle and gave a pause for dramatic effect - one that had Starscream rolling his optics and barking for him to _get on with it already_ \- before giving it a hearty spin.

“Ground rules,” Thundercracker said as they all watched the bottle spin with varying levels of excitement and or trepidation. “Nothing said leaves this room. And let’s not kill each other, either.”

“Spoilsport,” Skywarp grumbled before taking a swig from his own bottle of engex; his third one that night, but who was even counting at that point?

The bottle’s rotation began to slow. Thundercracker heaved a sigh of relief as it passed by him, leaving Starscream as the designated first victim of the evening’s festivities.

“So, ‘Screamer,” Skywarp said, his grin a touch sadistic as he watched the way Starscream’s wings canted high in a preemptive defensive display, “I’ve got a question for you.”

“This ought to be good,” Starscream said with a flippancy that wasn’t entirely feigned. Deception was his element, after all, and he was more than adept at making someone _think_ they’d wheedled information our of him when in actuality he’d simply talked them in some unsatisfying circles.

“If you had to fuck an Autobot, who would it be?”

“Just went straight for it, didn’t you,” Thundercracker said, deadpan as opposed to scandalized as Skywarp had surely been hoping. The brashness of his trinemate was a quality that he’d spent millennia being both frustrated and endeared by, after all.

“Prime,” Starscream said simply, and his response came so smoothly, so quickly, that it gave Skywarp and Thundercracker pause.

The two exchanged a glance before Skywarp ventured, “Optimus Prime? The guy who stands for everything that our cause is against? _That_ Prime?”

“I like bringing powerful men to their knees,” Starscream said as he examined his talons with an air of self-satisfaction, as if he could attest to doing that very thing.

Thundercracker surveyed the room, his optics roving over each corner and crevice with a palpable paranoia. “Don’t let Soundwave hear you say something like that. He’d probably accuse you of treason.”

“Treason,” Starscream drawled, and his lips curled as if the word were a pleasant taste on his tongue. “If it’s treason to appreciate a man of Prime’s endowment then I’ll gladly take the dishonorable discharge.”

“I knew it!” Skywarp proclaimed suddenly, and the hand that wasn’t gripping the neck of a wine bottle thrust a finger in Starscream’s direction that was as accusatory as it was triumphant. “I knew you were a size queen.”

A curse was spat at him in retaliation, but Skywarp was undeterred. “First Skyfire, then Megatron, now Prime. It’s obvious.”

“Anyone besides Prime?” Thundercracker asked in a valiant attempt to steer things back into less potentially turbulent waters; less so because of Skywarp’s gleeful probing at Starscream’s sexual preferences and more so due to the opening of an old wound that always came with the mention of Starscream’s former partner.

“Greedy, aren’t you,” Starscream said with a pointed look. “You got your answer. Don’t push it.”

“Oh come on, Starscream,” Skywarp whined, giving his bottle an emphatic wave. “Don’t be so stingy. How often do we get to have nights to ourselves like this anymore? Loosen up a bit.”

Starscream looked to Thundercracker for backup, but found that the trinemate he relied on to be the more sensible of the two was regarding Skywarp with a look of indulgent sympathy.

“He’s got a point, Star,” Thundercracker said. “Have a little fun. Like I said, nothing leaves this room.”

“Traitor,” Starscream muttered, but as opposed to taking the expected course of action and complaining or making scathing comments about the childish depravity of his trinemates and their insatiable curiosity, he picked up his own bottle of engex and gave the liquid a swirl as he mused over the question.

“Brainstorm,” Starscream said after a moment of silence filled by nothing more than the gentle hum of their ventilations and the occasional tinkling of talons against glass as they nursed their drinks. “He’s a flier and a scientist. That makes him slightly more palatable than the rest of the bunch.”

Skywarp snorted. “He doesn’t count as an Autobot. Pick another.”

Starscream considered the growing bottles of engex littered around where he sat and decided to blame his surprising act of compliance on the alcohol. “ _Fine._ Wheeljack, I guess. He’s got a brain, by Autobot standards.”

“Of course you’d want to fuck a bunch of nerds,” Skywarp said. “You’re like one of those, those - what are they called, those - those _sapphosexuals_.”

“ _Sapio_ sexuals, ‘Warp,” Thundercracker amended.

“Right. Sapiosexuals.” Skywarp nodded sagely to himself, but the image was offset by the way he teetered unsteadily. “Can’t believe you’d put Wheeljack over Perceptor, though. At least a Wrecker should know their way around a good ‘facing.”

“If you’re so keen to judge,” Starscream hissed, and he didn’t bother to spin the bottle so much as he simply turned it towards Skywarp with a level of vitriol that was normally reserved for his interactions with Megatron, “then by all means, tell us all about the Autobots you’d spread your legs for.”

“Starscream.” Thundercracker’s tone conveyed a clear warning, one that was accompanied by a steely glare. 

Starscream gave a shrug that was hardly apologetic. “Fine. Enlighten us, Skywarp, as to which Autobots you would invite into your berth for a passionate, consensual night of interface.”

Skywarp rolled his optics - whether at Starscream’s saccharine wording from having been scolded or his complete lack of respect for the decorum of this game, they couldn’t be sure - but didn’t put up much of a fight beyond that. 

“Well that’s easy,” he said. “It’d be Ultra Magnus.”

“Huh,” was all Thundercracker said, any further commentary stifled as he downed more of his engex.

Starscream, always readily argumentative, did not accept Skywarp’s answer so easily. “Why _him,_ pray tell? Don’t tell me you have some sort of authority kink.”

Skywarp held up two fingers as he prepared to articulate his flawless reasoning for his choice. “Because A: he’s big. He’s huge. He’s colossal.”

Starscream shot him a withering glare that went ignored.

“And B: you can’t tell me you wouldn’t want to make someone so uptight do something filthy. _That_ ,” Skywarp punctuated the word by thrusting his bottle in the direction of Starscream with a smug little grin, “is what true power is.”

“I dunno,” Thundercracker said, his expression deeply contemplative as if they were discussing battle strategies or intricate flight maneuvers and not raunchy cross-factional trysts. “I feel like it’d be kinda awkward with him. He just seems so...stiff.”

“It’d be like having sex with a computer, you mean,” Starscream said with a snicker, prompting Skywarp to retaliate with a “Bite me, Prime-fucker.”

“It’s not our fault you have questionable taste.” Starscream sniffed and gave his engex a pompous swirl. “Another. Now’s your chance to redeem yourself.”

Skywarp had the audacity to look offended by Starscream putting him through the same wringer that he had just endured. Thundercracker offered him no defense, just a look of shameless curiosity.

“Sideswipe,” Skywarp said. His irritation was belied by the swiftness of his response. He never had been one to shy away from his promiscuity. “He’s good looking. For an Autobot.”

“That twin of his is better looking,” Starscream said, always the contrarian.

“I bet you’d think that.” Skywarp snorted. “Hear he’s just about as vain as you are.”

Starscream fluttered his wings, as if his vanity were a point of pride and not a vice that would provide ammunition against him in an argument. 

Thundercracker had remained oddly quiet, either ruminating in the revelations of the evening or pacified by the charge that had left his processor in a pleasant haze, but his apparent lack of enthusiasm didn’t save him from Skywarp’s mischievous gaze.

“Your turn, TC,” Skywarp said, his lips curled in a smile that was as sinister as it was coquettish. 

Thundercracker cast a pleading look at the bottle resting between them, tragically forgotten. Starscream, already sensing Thundercracker’s pitiful defense, snatched it up and tossed it away with a clatter.

“‘Nothing leaves this room,’ remember?” Starscream cooed, saccharine in a way that he reserved for the thin veiling of hostility, mockery, and nothing else. “So spit it out.”

Skywarp had the same ravenous look, and Thundercracker begrudgingly accepted that there were no friends here and he had no choice but to relent.

“Bumblebee,” Thundercracker said quietly, and it was much more a sheepish admission than the shamelessly confident answers provided by his trinemates. 

“Bumblebee,” Skywarp repeated, and he spoke the word as if it were some exotic epithet with an unknown meaning to it. “Little round guy. Yellow. Got one of those goody two shoes vibes to him. Punchable face.”

“It’s _cute_ ,” Thundercracker snapped, and Skywarp cackled with mirth at the outburst. “He’s cute, what can I say. It’s kinda hard not to like the little guy, at least somewhat. That’s all.”

“He likes cute ones,” Starscream purred, leaning towards Skywarp conspiratorially as he smirked with all the confidence of someone who had just learned a juicy secret that could completely tarnish someone’s reputation; and perhaps he had, but Thundercracker knew better than to let him know that.

“TC is such a softie,” Skywarp said with an impish laugh. “He gets off on stuff like handholding and whispering sweet nothings in the afterglow.”

Thundercracker’s wings fanned wide in a defiant display, despite the way their laughter at his expense made him feel small. “Haha, ok. Laugh it up. We all have our preferences.”

“Who’d your second choice be?” Starscream asked. His talons curled dangerously around the neck of his bottle. “ _Cosmos_?”

“N-” Thundercracker swallowed his retort. He couldn’t meet their probing gazes as he said, “Yeah.”

“That’s sweet.” Skywarp leaned over, giving Thundercracker’s cheek a patronizing pinch that was batted away. 

“Oh lighten up, Thundercracker,” Starscream drawled, as if the most mercurial of the three had an authority on the subject of taking things easy. “It’s all hypothetical anyways. None of us are actually going to go out there and start screwing Autobots.”

“Would be fun, though,” Skywarp said wistfully. “We could even make a game of it. See who can get laid the fastest.”

The alcohol must have put Starscream in higher spirits than usual, for despite his unaccommodating response of, “Never going to happen,” he dignified Skywarp’s proposal with a laugh. 

“Well not with _that_ attitude,” Skywarp grumbled, and as he continued to ponder over his proposition he laid back and attempted to balance his empty and abused bottle on a finger. “I’d say you have a pretty good shot of winning, ‘Screamer. I bet Prime’s got all this pent up sexual frustration that he’d love to take out on a pretty little thing like you.”

Starscream scowled, but his wings predictably fluttered at the praise. “And what makes you say that?”

“It’s always the super spiritual ones who are the most horny,” Skywarp said, as if such a matter were an unshakeable maxim that dictated the very nature of their species. “After all that forced celibacy or whatever he’d probably get off just from seeing your - I dunno, your ankle or something.”

He was too sluggish from the engex and lost in his own musings to dodge the pillow that was thrown his way, and the bottle landed unceremoniously on his face.

“You’re only mad because you know it’s true,” he said as he rubbed at his bruised nose. 

“As if Ultra Magnus would be any better,” Starscream retorted before he downed the rest of his drink in one go, earning an impressed whistle from Skywarp and a feeling of trepidation from Thundercracker as what exactly two inebriated Seekers would entail. “He’s so uptight. Forget being well-endowed, he wouldn’t last two seconds. _Especially_ with you.”

“I wouldn’t be surprised if there’s so clause in the Autobot Code that says you can’t sleep with Decepticons,” Thundercracker mused, earnest in a way his trinemates never quite seemed to be. “And I hear he practically worships that thing. So, uh, good luck, ‘Warp.”

Skywarp’s lips pressed into a look of determination. Starscream would have called it a pout. “Ye of little faith. I’d be able to make him crack and it would all be worth it in the end.”

Starscream’s laughter came more easily and grew more boisterous from the engex circulating through his system. He always had been an oddly jubilant drunk, and the cheerful lilt to his voice - though certainly odd, given his usual demeanor - belied the snideness of his words. “You’d give up after it took you six months to get to handholding. You’ve never been good at playing the long game. Which is all you can expect from someone who thinks with his valve.”

“Cut it out, Starscream,” Thundercracker interjected, but despite the passionate defense of his character Skywarp simply shrugged.

“He’s got a point,” Skywarp conceded. “I’d have better luck with Sideswipe. But you, TC? You’ve got it made.”

Thundercracker made a strangled noise as he choked down his engex. “Why do you say that?”

“Everyone knows the cute ones are the real freaks,” Skywarp said. “I bet you anything Bee would go down easy. And I mean that literally.”

“Can we please drop this,” Thundercracker said, his optics those of a weary man who had endured far too many horrors in one night to bother putting up a fight anymore. 

“Don’t be upset, TC.” Skywarp sat up, pillow still clutched to his cockpit and his legs spread in a v-shape that took up more room on the floor than was polite; a fact Starscream alerted him to with a grumble. “Here, let me make it up to you.”

Thundercracker couldn’t feign disinterest for long. He pried his gaze away from the opposite wall, his grip on his bottle tightening as he asked, “How?”

Skywarp, always the most shameless of the three, reached down and stroked his panel with a look that dared Thundercracker to deny his proposition. 

“I told you he thinks with his valve,” Starscream muttered.

Thundercracker, too occupied with crawling over towards Skywarp with his body language radiating something between resignation and obvious interest, didn’t argue for his trinemate’s sake. 

Skywarp welcomed Thundercracker with open arms, lying back in a move that looked less seductive in his overcharged state and more like an inelegant loss of motor control. 

But Thundercracker was only charmed by it, as he was so inclined to be by the various idiosyncrasies of his trinemate. Despite the ridicule he’d suffered previously he breathed a genuine laugh at the carefree smile Skywarp flashed beneath him, and he tossed aside the pillow that was a barrier between them and began to rub his palm against Skywarp’s panel. 

“You’re incorrigible,” Starscream sniffed from where he sat off to the side. 

“Even when you’re smashed you sound pretentious,” Skywarp said. “‘Sides, there’s plenty of room. Can’t fuck an Autobot so might as well settle for a couple’a Decepticons.”

“Bold of you to assume you would be my first choice,” Starscream said, but there was no mistaking the piqued curiosity that was evident in the cant of his wings. 

“Hm?” Thundercracker regarded Starscream with a skeptical look, even as his fingers met the damp mesh of Skywarp’s now exposed valve. “Who would?”

Skywarp purred as Thundercracker began to finger him at a languid pace. “Mmm. You and I both know it’s Megatron, TC. He’s _everyone’s_ first choice.”

Thundercracker didn’t try to refute that claim.

“Second choice, ‘Screamer,” Skywarp said. “Spit it out.”

He closed his optics for a moment as he focused on the charge that was steadily blooming in his core from Thundercracker’s careful touch, one that carried a confidence and skill that spoke of years of intimacy. 

Thundercracker always had a certain level of tenderness with which he approached sex, and even when the drunken atmosphere of the room was more in line with a quick, sloppy, fuck, he still doted upon Skywarp as if this were a prelude to making love. He gathered up the slick lubricant, granting Skywarp a charity that Starscream wouldn’t by choosing not to comment on his already heightened state of arousal, and slowly tested the pliancy of Skywarp’s channel. He gave Skywarp’s node the occasional rub to help coax calipers into loosening and to draw a gasp from Skywarp’s lips. 

Skywarp rocked his hips, fumbling to find the same rhythm as Thundercracker’s fingers, and when he opened his optics once more he found Starscream staring down at him.

“Knock Out,” Starscream said.

“That _butcher_?” Skywarp grinned cheekily up him. “Kinky.”

Starscream didn’t have to tell Skywarp to shut up, as any further commentary was silenced when Thundercracker wrapped a hand around Skywarp’s spike and gave it a squeeze.

“He’s attractive,” Thundercracker said, still playing the part of diplomat even with one hand knuckle-deep in Skywarp’s valve and the other stroking his spike to fullness. “There’s something about doctors.”

Skywarp found his voice once more. “That one Autobot medic? The grumpy one who looks like his joints would seize up if he tried to give you a handjob? I heard he used to be called The Party Ambulance. And then there’s that _jet_.”

“Pharma,” Thundercracker added with an appreciative hum. “I hear he loathes Decepticons.”

“Nothing wrong with a little hate sex,” Skywarp said, never deterred.

“Thundercracker?” Starscream asked, his sharp tongue already prepared to pass judgment on whatever name plagued Thundercracker’s sexual fantasies. 

“Um.” Thundercracker’s hands froze, prompting a needy whine from Skywarp. “Soundwave.”

Skywarp bucked into Thundercracker’s grip in a not-so-subtle demand for him to continue. “Ok, but - what if he read your mind while you were doing it?”

“And he’s got all those _kids_ ,” Starscream said with disdain. “Good luck even getting him alone.”

“I respect him, ok?” Thundercracker said, and he gave Skywarp’s wing a pinch - one that had the other Seeker shivering as just a touch of pain and pleasure alike lit up his neural network - as his one act of retaliation for the night. “He’s loyal. He’s competent. And he’s got a good spark.”

“You’re so sentimental.” Starscream said the word as if it were a foreign concept, as if he didn’t demand to recharge with Thundercracker pressed against his back so he could feel the soothing pulse of his spark, or return from nights spent in Megatron’s berth to regale Skywarp with all the details of how surprisingly gentlemanly and romantic the warlord could be in the privacy of his hab-suite. 

Skywarp scowled at the hypocritical jab. “Ok, ‘Screamer. I think we’ve given TC enough grief. So his taste is different from ours. He thinks with his spark and there’s nothing wrong with that.”

Thundercracker leaned down to press a kiss to Skywarp’s cheek in thanks, only further proving his point. 

“Fine,” Starscream relented with a sigh, but he reached over and gave Thundercracker’s wing a rub that almost could have passed for an apology. “And you, Skywarp?”

“Astrotrain,” Skywarp responded immediately, and his optics brightened blissfully as Thundercracker straddled him and began to rub Skywarp’s spike along the folds of his valve. “Mm. It’s gotta be Astrotrain. Magnus is huge, but Astrotrain is _massive._ I wouldn’t be able to walk straight for weeks and I’d thank him for it.”

“Size queen,” Starscream jeered in a poor imitation of Skywarp’s voice that had Skywarp giggling mischievously. “You talk too much.”

As Thundercracker took Skywarp’s spike, Starscream opened his own panel and positioned himself above Skywarp’s face. 

Skywarp licked his lips with anticipation. “Make me shut up, then.”

“Gladly,” Starscream said, and before he could lower himself with any semblance of grace Skywarp seized his thighs and began to eat him out with relish.

Starscream tossed his head back as Skywarp put his mouth to what was, in his opinion, a much more productive use. Thundercracker, in contrast to the slower pace he’d set earlier, began to ride Skywarp’s spike in earnest. 

“This was a good idea,” Starscream said breathily, and his thighs began to tremble as Skywarp lapped at his node. 

“Better than spending the night with Megatron?” Thundercracker asked. He leaned forward, his lips searching for Starscream’s, and Skywarp thrust as the change in angle allowed him to sink deeper.

“Up for debate.” But despite his coy answer Starscream eagerly accepted Thundercracker’s kiss, running his tongue along his bottom lip and purring with satisfaction as Thundercracker opened his mouth in submission.

Skywarp grunted below them - craving the attention, no doubt, as he always was - and redoubled his efforts, which had Starscream bracing himself against Thundercracker as Skywarp’s ministrations left him strutless. 

Thundercracker kept his hips flush with Skywarp’s and ground against him with that same fervency, creating a dizzying friction between his node and Skywarp’s pelvic plating that only amplified the sensation of his calipers clamping down on Skywarp’s spike.

It was always a challenge to discern which of them had come undone first. The bond that kept each other’s presence like a phantom sensation in their sparks had a way of creating a domino effect between them, and just as soon as Starscream was clutching at Thundercracker’s vents for purchase Thundercracker was biting his lip as the warm flood of Skywarp’s release had him riding out his own overload. 

Starscream slumped, cheeks flushed and a rare smile gracing his features, but Thundercracker didn’t have long to appreciate the sight of his sated trinemate before Skywarp was attempting to dislodge Starscream.

“Coulda broke my neck,” Skywarp grumbled as Starscream got up, but he still offered Starscream’s thigh a parting kiss and a playful nip. 

“You loved it,” Starscream said, and as Thundercracker followed suit Starscream propped Skywarp up against his chest and began stroking his wings and canopy.

Thundercracker kneeled between Skywarp’s parted legs and slipped his fingers back in his valve, curling them against a cluster of sensors that had Skywarp melting in Starscream’s grasp.

“You’re always my first choice,” Thundercracker murmured, and he bore a smile that would have neither of them second guessing the sincerity of his words. “Autobot or Decepticon. There’s nowhere I’d rather be.”

“Not even with Megatron?” Skywarp asked as he cracked open an optic.

“There’s no reason you can’t have both,” Starscream said, and the suggestion had Skywarp’s pulse quickening beneath his touch. 

Thundercracker massaged his palm against Skywarp’s node. “Think he could handle all three of us?”

Starscream laughed dryly. “Have you met him? The old fool’s even more insatiable than this one.” Starscream fondled one of Skywarp’s ailerons fondly, finding it in him to bestow some praise upon his trinemate. “You’re a lot of things, Skywarp, but a neglectful partner is not one of them.”

“We can always count on you to take care of us,” Thundercracker said, his lips flirting with Skywarp’s own. 

Feeling Skywarp tremble against him in overload, Starscream quietly admitted that he’d made the right choice.

______________________________

Megatron had grown used to having company at night. 

He’d become accustomed to the ups and downs of sharing a berth with another, more specifically those that came when bedding a certain Seeker. There was the pleasant sting of possessive talons clinging to his armor, as if Starscream feared he would up and leave in the middle of the night without so much as a word; the warmth that always seemed to radiate from Starscream’s frame, giving Megatron the pleasant illusion of safety that his chambers on the Nemesis could never quite provide; the uncomfortable jab of a thruster, always restless, in his side, that perfectly mirrored Starscream’s function in the waking hours of keeping him vigilant against acts of treachery; and the feeling of being pushed aside by a sprawling wingspan that wasn’t made for accommodating the closeness of another. 

As he found himself lamenting the emptiness of his berth, he chastised himself for getting attached. A partner in wartime, and all the comforts one would bring, was a privilege he knew he could not afford; least of all when the object of his affections was someone as flighty as Starscream, who already had a certain level of unspoken dedication to his trine. 

Megatron had resigned himself to the thought of a pitiful night of self-service, of having Starscream’s name on his lips and the image of three Seekers entangled in one another at the forefront of his mind as he fisted the sheets in the heat of his overload.

He was not a religious man, but when his room was filled with a flash of purple and the crack of a warp drive and he was suddenly playing host to three overcharged, libidinous Seekers, Megatron could have thanked whatever deity had taken pity on him. 

“I’m letting them borrow you for the night,” Starscream said in lieu of a greeting as he sat on Megatron’s codpiece as if it were a throne, and Megatron was not foolish enough to tell him that he always looked the part of a sovereign. 

Skywarp clutched at his side, and Megatron was amazed that his grip was even more vice-like than that of his fiercely territorial trineleader. Thundercracker was stationed on his other side, already leaving a trail of kisses along the curve of his jaw.

“Turns out you’re the most desirable Decepticon,” Skywarp purred, and he traced a finger flirtatiously along the swirl pattern adorning Megatron’s chest. “But I’d be careful if I were you. ‘Screamer’s got his eyes on Prime.”

The vengeful kick that was promptly delivered was worth seeing Megatron’s stoicism completely crumble.

**Author's Note:**

> Skywarp spends months courting Magnus only to find out he's a tiny man in a big suit.


End file.
